Tag: Play

PTP/NYC is known for producing politically aware plays.  They present theatrically complex and thought-provoking works of contemporary social and cultural relevance.  For their abbreviated season this year, they are streaming four productions over four weeks.  The second one, Don’t Exaggerate (desire and abuse), certainly fits the bill.  Howard Barker’s work is subtitled, “a political statement in the form of hysteria.”

This forty minute stream of consciousness is delivered by Robert Emmet Lunney.  He portrays a Hungarian soldier who was killed in World War I.  His spirit, however, is back to make commentary about the world since then.  This monologue was first performed in 1984 and is not dated one bit.  So many off-hand remarks land darkly and humorously but also feel current.

Right from the start, you understand why this piece is on this theater company’s schedule this year.  “The truth is dying / It is praised so much / Don’t keep on about the truth.”  Death is a major theme which perhaps seems obvious from a dead war soldier.  The tone is serious and blunt with comments like “suicide is the highest moment of consciousness.”  He views Europe as “death’s estate.”  Later in the show, truth and death combine and we are made to realize “the dead have all the facts.”

All is not gloom and doom in this wildly non-linear wordplay.  The world is an “avalanche of falling periodicals” and “everyone is in print.”  Written over three decades ago, that observation is even more true today.  Social media and non-stop news cycles make for a never ending avalanche.

There are many societal zingers scattered throughout which entertain.  One particular favorite was “never underestimate the reproductive powers of the decadent.”  Mr. Barker has a disgusting opinion of mankind in general.  That viewpoint pops up in serious commentary and also in hilarious one liners including a throwaway line about hearing “choruses of violated sheep.”

Climate change hits hard here as well.  Rising temperatures of the planet are contributing to cancers in the population.  A little later on, he comes back to this notion and links back to his running commentary about truths.  An “increase in cancers” is equivalent to an “increase in lies.”  There are so many fascinating parallels to our 21st century cavalcade of large scale dramas happening worldwide.

Here’s a tip:  “you can always take an intellectual for a ride if you stare into his eyes.”  I love Mr. Barker’s writing and the rambling style which managed to loop around in a whirlpool of sarcasm and despair.

The central performance by Mr. Lunney could have dripped with even more sarcasm.  I wonder if the monologue might come across differently spoken by a young man rather than one wiser with age.  A fresh faced soldier who has an axe to grind.  The acerbic tone might be even more disconcerting.  The live streaming, however, was a great medium to appreciate this work.  Director Richard Romagnoli’s in-your-face close ups kept the focus intense.

Don’t Exaggerate (desire and abuse) is available on PTP/NYC’s You Tube channel through Sunday, October 4, 2020.  The next production is Dan O’Briens The House in Scarsdale: A Memoir for the Stage beginning October 8th.

youtube/ptpnyc

“Get out of the car.”  “Shut the fuck up before we beat your ass.”  So begins the searing storytelling in 12 Angry Men… and Women:  The Weight of the Wait.  Based on a book which explored the black male experience in dealing with police brutality, The Billie Holiday Theatre updated a previously performed play to also includes female voices.  Obviously the material is timely.  Predictably it is upsetting.  The production is gripping and relentless, like the racism on display.

A preview of the creation and celebration of the first Black Lives Matter Plaza in New York City begins this streamed theatrical event.  The play was performed live last Saturday night on the mural in the middle of the street. The theater and this show are located in the middle of the Bedford-Stuyvesant section of Brooklyn.  A fitting locale as this area has been a center of African-American culture for the last century.

In this new century, more stories need to be told.  Director Dr. Indira Etwaroo makes the mission clear in her letter to the audience.  “We must pass a better world on to the next generation. The time has come to stand together. The time for justice is now.”

Musicians from the New York Philharmonic begin the show with a musical overture.  The sirens begin and lights are flashing.  A view into the terrors and humiliations which follow are clear-eyed, angry and emotional.

Five actors perform their monologues (with some intersecting dialogue) in separate acting modules.  The production design and especially the lighting effects ratchet up feelings of claustrophobia and intentional targeting.  Staged in the middle of the street at night lends an additional air of tension, especially in concert with the stories’ settings.  The visible yellow Black Lives Matter painted on the road firmly grounds the work in the now.  The urgency demanded by a serious docudrama is on full display.

The first vignette told is one of a criminal justice reporter for the New York Times.  He traveled to Salisbury, Maryland for a story.  His head was shoved down on a police vehicle.  Of course this was a case of mistaken accusation but no apology was offered.  “Sir, this is the south.  We have different laws down here.”  The unspoken word that entered my mind was “still.”

These stories are by no means focused geographically.  An English woman and her brother were driving near Los Angeles when they were pulled over.  She had not lived in America long enough to understand how the police functioned here.  Her experience put her “squarely in a sub-region of the borders of American blackness.”

A Harvard lawyer is harassed while making a phone call in Boston’s airport.  A teen describes everyday with the DT’s, or local detectives, in her neighborhood.  More car pullovers.  Scenes of abject terror and fear.  Tough choices between one’s rights and dignity, or death.  The material is as hard as is the subject matter.  It is supposed to be.  And it succeeds.

A story of a black man going to a bar during a return home to Asheville, North Carolina overwhelmed me with its cruelty.  Another horrifying tale when an illegal left turn resulted in 45 stitches in the head.  How about a Professor of Criminal Procedures walking home at night in his neighborhood?  Don’t think you can face this material?  You must, especially if this is not the America you see each and every day.  Let artists help us all understand and reflect and share.

How else are we going to heal from the all-too recent scars of the Breonna Taylor tragedy?  12 Angry Men… and Women ends with Ms. Taylor’s mother’s words.  You will hear how she learned what happened to her daughter.  It is sickening and heartbreaking.  This is vital theater and needs to be experienced for both its power and its purpose.  And, most importantly, to help us push forward to a more just society tomorrow.

“We must pass a better world on to the next generation. The time has come to stand together. The time for justice is now.”

12 Angry Men… and Women:  The Wait of the Weight is streaming on You Tube on the page of The Billie Holiday Theatre.

youtube/12angrymenandwomen

The phrase “Two Can Play at that game” implies retaliation against an act of deception, deceit or harm.  In Trevor Rhone’s enormously satisfying comedy, two characters engage in a game of wits.  Survival is one theme.  Surviving a twenty year marriage.  Managing to live in a world which has become a gun battleground.  Poverty and joblessness are suffocating.  Dreaming for a better life in America.  Aspiring to being a woman who is more than a domesticated slave.  The flavor is Jamaican but the targets are universal.

Jim and Gloria are attempting to sleep in their Kingston home.  Gunfire is ablaze outside which is nothing new.  Elderly “Pops” is in the back room coughing.  Jim is completely paranoid.  He is nervous and on edge.  Gloria suggests he take more valium.  This play takes place in the 1970’s.  Despite the tensions and horrors of life in this lower middle income neighborhood, the tone is one hundred percent situation comedy.  The foibles and tribulations of a couple after their children have fled the coop for better pastures in America.

All three kids are now illegal immigrants there.  Son Andrew sends a letter home.  Jim is fearful about his children being caught.  “Uncle Sam is a bitch.  Him have satellite up in the sky can read number on dis house.”  Imagine how Jim’s worries would escalate with thirty years of additional and more invasive technologies.  His other son Paul has three jobs.  Dad’s reaction is “God bless America.”

Pops dies in the first scene.  Jim and Gloria hatch a plan to emigrate to the United States.  “We have to go to Uncle Sam.”  In classic comedy fashion they will bicker over money which is very tight.  Jim notes that Gloria is spending too much on “war paint” which could buy extra food.  She retorts, “Yuh still have money for yuh cigarette though.”  Gloria appears smarter and more resourceful than her domineering husband and is learning to gain power in the relationship.

Today she witnessed a man selling a puff for ten cents.  Gloria invests in a carton and negotiates with her husband.  Jim reluctantly pays $1.50 for a cigarette.  He then asks for a match.  That’ll be another ten cents.  The scene is a small one but nicely demonstrates the state of their relationship.  Through all the dangers and disappointments in their lives, they have managed to survive to this point with their classically humorous and recognizable identities.  While this Jamaican couple is drawn as a stereotype, that is clearly playwright Trevor Rhone’s intention.  These two are prototypes of similar dreamers everywhere.

There are tons of laughs written into this comedy which is being revived after its 1985 New York premiere.  Gloria’s frustrations are a common one even today.  She knows her husband is seeing someone else on Tuesday nights.  “You can’t manage your homework properly yet yuh taking on extracurricular activity.”  They are aligned, however, in escaping their increasingly embattled homeland for the promise of America.  We laugh with them due to their personalities but the urgency registers regardless of the humor.

Another satisfying layer of Two Can Play is the emergence of Gloria as a woman.  She’s discovering that her servitude needs to change.  She is no longer property to lend, lease or rent.  Her adventures in this play are thoroughly enjoyable.  When she realizes the only thing holding her marriage together is crisis, her transformation blossoms.  The play nicely builds a believable story arc despite the wildly entertaining comedic escapades.

Joyce Sylvester and Michael Rogers are terrific as Gloria and Jim.  Their chemistry has the appropriately lived-in feel.  They both know how to expertly land a joke and they each have an abundance of them.  Their oversized facial expressions are truly hilarious.  Director Clinton Turner Davis wisely turns up all the dials to showcase this play as a big and very broad comedy.  These two characters could easily carry a television series.  You love their imperfections.  You want to hear about their desires.  And, finally, you root for their ultimate success, whatever that will mean.

The New Federal Theatre production of Two Can Play is running at the Castillo Theatre through April 5, 2020.

www.allstars.org/castillo

Those theatergoers who dare to venture into the ominous sounding Suicide Forest will encounter an experience both surreal and deeply grounded.  The title refers to Aokigahara, or Sea of Trees, located at the base of Mount Fuji.  In Japanese mythology this forest has a reputation as a home to ghosts of the dead.  Playwright Haruna Lee paints an unflattering picture of society through a completely unpredictable story arc.

A painting of Mount Fuji in all of its majestic beauty hangs on the wall of Jian Jung’s astonishing cartoon-like set.  Before the play gets underway, a ghost named Mad Mad (Aoi Lee) is walking around.  Searching?  Collecting?  In Lee’s play, vignettes are far from literal.  The two main characters of this play are Asuza, portrayed by the playwright, and Salaryman (an excellent Eddy Toru Ohno).  Asuza is a sixteen year old schoolgirl.  Salaryman is a much older white collar working man in his sixties.

Salaryman discusses a myriad of topics with a unnamed “Friend” (Keizo Kaji).  Men are carnivores and meat lovers.  Suicide is a coward’s way.  These men are victims of changing cultural mores particularly as they concern females.  Friend asks, “What’s up with women these days?”  Salaryman notes that you cannot even ask that question anymore without being fired.  These guys don’t want to become part of the new generation of herbivore men.

An Office Lady (Yuki Kawahisa) lets Salaryman know there are very young girls here to see him.  They have come for an interview.  Reality turns to fantasy and perhaps to dreams and nightmares.  Office Lady flirts aggressively with the older man.  Is she young enough for him?  This bizarre encounter winds up with her blunt question, “What are you thinking of in that disgusting, perverted little brain of yours?”

Sexual development and the objectification of women is front and center in Suicide Forest.  This topic does not travel down a safe road here.  The disturbing view into men and their thoughts add an uneasy but effective revulsion to these disjointed scenes.  Are women simply wired to exchange sex for material things?  Where is this play going?

In a humorous nod to Japanese game shows you may have seen on television, Salaryman will be the unwitting participant in a very public humiliation.  That section seems to flesh out the man’s unhappiness as a life long submissive member of the corporate emasculating machine.  Japanese belief systems are definitely on shaky ground.

Haruna Lee’s play takes many turns (some of them hairpin) and I will not spoil the intensely personal and vividly realized moments.  As an artist, Lee is trying to comprehend what it means to be 50% Japanese.  Sometimes 33% seems right.  Other times as high as 70%.  “I am also, usually, a high percentage of American too.”

There is one scene in this unique play in which goats are climbing a mountain.  That part felt overly long to sit through.  Most of the staging by Director Aya Ogawa cleverly embraces the fantastical sweep of the storytelling while allowing the societal observations and personal growth elements to shine.

Suicide Forest is not a play for those who have to traverse a linear path.  If you are willing to be led into a dark, unknowable sea of trees, surprises – both welcome and unwelcome – will expose themselves.  The effect is like emigrating to a foreign country.  Reconciling drastically different cultures while uncomfortably finding your own place within them.  This is meaty, risky and altogether idiosyncratic theater worth exploring and contemplating afterward.

Ma-Yi Theater Company’s encore presentation of Suicide Forest at the A.R.T./New York Theatre is running through March 15, 2020.  This play was originally performed at the Bushwick Starr in 2019.

www.ma-yitheatre.org

www.art-newyork.org

Ever since I saw The Christians in 2015, I have made sure to see every Lucas Hnath play since then.  The variety of subject matter and structural surprises never disappoint.  They are both thoughtful and thought-provoking.  He is pushing plays into new territories and challenging his audiences to sit back, listen, think and engage.  Directed by his long-time collaborator Les Waters, Dana H. is something new, bold, curiously calm and unforgettably harrowing.

When Mr. Hnath was attending New York University in 1998, his mother was kidnapped.  He learned about this trauma years later.  His mother apparently believed her ordeal might make for good subject matter.  He brought Steve Cosson into the idea.  Mr. Cosson is the Artistic Director of The Civilians, a troupe that specializes in investigative theater and the utilization of field research.

Dana H. is adapted from a series of taped interviews between Mr. Cosson and Dana, his mother.  Rather than develop a traditional multi-character (and potentially unwatchable) drama, Mr. Hnath brought his mother’s voice to the stage.  The entire play is largely Deidre O’Connell sitting in a chair and lip syncing to the taped interviews.  Riveting is an understatement.  You could hear a pin drop in the house.

The play is organized in three parts:  A Patient Named Jim, The Next Five Months and The Bridge.  Dana had a career as a chaplain in a hospice.  She saw the moment of death in her patients three to four times per week.  For twenty years.  She meets a patient named Jim who is recovering from a horrific suicide attempt.

Jim is a member of the Aryan Brotherhood and has the tattoos to prove it.  Dana wryly remarks that she understood his attraction to satanism.  “When I was young, I played around with that.”  Right from the beginning, details are mysterious.  Is she being witty?  Is she embellishing the story?  The words are from one person’s memory of a hugely traumatic event.  Is she a reliable narrator?  That’s for the listener to determine.

Mr. Hnath takes these interview tapes and rearranges them into snippets which suit his dramatic intentions.  The tape edits are the entire narrative.  We hear the beeps when storytelling is spliced together.  The interviewer is heard but not a character in the play.  Dana sits alone and takes us through her ordeal.

Her recollection is filled with mental and physical abuse.  Police are unhelpful, either scared of the Brotherhood or chummy with it.  Are those comments real or are they are product of her mental state during an extensive incarceration with a madman.  When the two go to a gun pawnshop, Jim admits that he is a felon and cannot buy the gun.  Instead he says, “she’ll buy it.”  Mr. Hnath’s incisive details frequently comment on larger societal themes without preaching.

Ms. O’Connell’s mind-blowing performance is not to be missed by anyone who relishes perfection in character acting.  The lip syncing is technically phenomenal.  Even recorded sounds are captured in her physical movements.  The performance is essentially a solo pantomime.  All eyes are on Dana.  The depth of her emotions expressively register on her face.  We are pulled inside her brain.  The tale is frightening which makes her inevitable survival a relief.

The biggest mystery not explored in this play concerns Lucas the son.  Where was he as all of this activity happened over a very extended period of time?  I assume he knew of his parent’s separation.  That enabled Jim to weave his way in Dana’s life before tormenting her in classic sociopath fashion.  Mr. Hnath does not attempt to wrap up that question.  Nor does he even suggest whether he believes the details are completely accurate or influenced by PTSD.  In letting Dana speak for herself, his absorption in his mother’s memories become ours as well.

Performances of Dana H. have been extended at the Vineyard Theatre until April 11, 2020.

www.vineyardtheatre.org

www.thecivilians.org